[b][i]Mykhailo Martinez[/i][/b]

After finishing the talk with Ayvee, and hopefully deepening their friendship (?), Mykhailo was now listening in the briefing room, with only one question in his mind. Lifting his right hand up like a schoolboy, the youngest pilot asked, "Sir, are we assuming that the foe's aircraft are grounded, or that we can catch them by surprise before they scramble or that they are not flying patrols? Either way, the enemy are going [i]down[/i], whatever they put up."

[i]Two more kills and I have Ace-hood. Two more kills and I make the enemy fear.[/i]

Mykhailo reminded himself that he should be careful about avoiding missiles and flak, too. The fraction of a second between his own shot and that of the enemy's; the importance of getting the drop on them and making sure that he had a plan for when someone got the drop on him... He lived for that.

[i]It's a fiction, that you're doing this for the N/UN alone. You don't need the payment - You're rich just like your family. You need the thrill, the action, the adrenaline. And underneath, you want to do it without feeling like you're the bad guy, the one in the wrong, the bully. You want to be the good guy who does this because it's the right thing to do to protect others and stop the horrors of war from reaching you and yours'.[/i]

Mykhailo was at peace with himself right now, at peace with admitting, [i]I like being a pilot. I like being a merc. I like fighting while thinking of myself as the good guy.

And honestly... That's fine.[/i]

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